Road to Madness
by Lil-Sphinx
Summary: Harry's dying, most of his friends have abandoned him or have died, Voldemort is still alive, and the wizarding world is in chaos. What would Harry do when he has nothing to lose? HPDM pairing, spoilers from all 5 books, AU
1. The decision

**Road to Madness**

Prologue

_"…You search the eyes of those who fear the law, Darkness and Light we all must keep the balance strong, One day a king will rise with the sun, the moon, and the stars, And you are he and you must die, to be born again, come again, once more be again the king…"_

_"Deliverance" – Queensryche_

Harry James Potter was dying.

After seven years of battling and surviving Voldemort it was finally ending. Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived was dying, much to the Wizarding World's dismay. For you see Lord Voldemort, a dark wizard who had been haunting Great Britain for years, was still very much alive. During one of the last confrontations Voldemort had cursed Harry, using a spell so ancient it was unknown where it came from or what its true propose was. But, the curse slowly and painfully ate away at the victim's magic and physical body. No one knew how to save The-Boy-Who-Lived.

He had been hospitalized at St. Mungo's until it was found out that nothing could be done to save him. Once he had found that out, he had appealed to Dumbledore to allow him to stay at Hogwarts, the only home he had ever known, until he died. Sorrowfully, Dumbledore had agreed and Harry was transferred to the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts.

Harry smiled softly as he climbed from the hospital bed and slowly made his way out of the Hospital Wing. He knew what had to be done to save the future of the Wizarding World, but if anyone found out what he was about to do, not only would he be stopped, but he'd probably be arrested too since it was forbidden. His smile, tired as it was, grew. He never was one to follow the rules. Although he always did the right thing, what everyone expected from Dumbledore's Golden Boy. A frown marred his hollowed features at that thought and he was disgusted with himself for what he had become, nothing more than a pawn in someone else's game for power. And now here he was with nothing. He was a dying icon that had never even lived.

A seizure gripped his already weakened body causing him to fall to the stone floor. The black book he had been holding slipped from his nerveless hands as his entire body shuddered with pain. Through the pain he heard someone calling his name and small but firm hands holding him down. As the seizures that racked his body slowly faded he blinked dull green eyes and offered Hermione a tired smile. He laid on the cold floor willing feeling back into his limbs as a worried Hermione sat stroking his long unruly hair.

Hermione, she was one of the few people Harry trusted completely. She was his confidant, keeping his deepest secrets and his darkest fears and his hidden dreams. When everyone else had abandoned him she had stayed by his side. She had willingly gone into battle right beside him, she took hits meant for him, and she was injured protecting him. He raised a trembling hand and cupped her left cheek brushing his thumb over her left eyelid. The eye had once been a honey-gold color, but now it was a cloudy white and blind.

"Don't Harry," Hermione whispered softly, removing Harry's hand from her face and holding it within her own. "Even knowing that this would happen, I wouldn't do anything differently."

Harry sighed and closed his eyes briefly. He knew that she meant more than just her blind eye she meant everything that had happened, from Ron's cowardly betrayal to her own miscarriage, to the endless lies that surrounded them. "You amaze me," he murmured his voice weary and scratchy. "There are so many things that I would change, that I'd do differently if given the chance."

Hermione smiled sadly and whispered, "Draco."

Harry nodded and his eyes drifted back to the black book he had dropped. Shakily he reached for it, but Hermione quickly leaned over and grabbed the book for him. He wrapped his right hand around the book and held it against his chest. The book, a journal really, was Draco Malfoy's, Harry's schoolboy rival. The two had fought bitterly over the years, but during the last two years the two had grudgingly earned each other's respect. Draco Malfoy, a proud Aristocrat, had gone against everything he had been taught and had followed his own path becoming a spy for the side of Light. He had died as he had lived with pride and dignity.

The journal was Draco's parting shot at Harry. The book had been spelled so that if Draco died it would go straight to Harry and only Harry would be able to read the book's contents. It was within those pages that Harry realized that Draco Malfoy had died without anyone knowing him. It was only in death and through the means of a journal that Draco Malfoy had let down his guard and allowed someone to see the real him. The journal held all of Draco's secrets and inmost thoughts; his deepest desires and guarded dreams.

Harry had cried for hours after he had read Draco's journal the first time. There had been so much wasted time and useless hate between them. And it was far too late to change any of it. In despair he had told Hermione a little bit of what he had found out in the journal. And Hermione did what she usually did, comforted him and demand he tell her everything. So night after night he read from the journal. It was during this time that Harry realized he knew what he had to do to save everyone. He was also honest enough with himself to know that what he had planned wasn't completely for the good of the Wizarding World. No, the real reason was pure selfishness. The Boy-Who-Lived was finally going to do something just for himself.

"'Mione, I need you to help me," Harry whispered as he struggled to stand up. Hermione quickly helped him to his feet and let him lean his slight weight against her taller sturdier frame.

"Of course Harry, what is it you need me to do?"

"I need you to help me get to the Dursley's," Harry said weakly.

Hermione frowned as she helped Harry walk down the hallway towards the school's entrance. "Why do you want to go there, Harry?"

Harry smiled a smile that Hermione hadn't seen in a long time. It was one of his carefree, rule breaking smiles. "We're going to do something illegal aren't we?" Hermione said.

Harry laughed softly but it quickly turned into a cough. "Yeah, we're going to break a really big rule," he replied.

"Harry James Potter, you better start spilling," she scolded playfully as the two walked down the front steps of Hogwarts and head for the gate where they could apparate to the Dursley's.

Briefly Harry described what he was going to do. When he finished Hermione had a frown on her face. "Are you sure you want to do this, Harry? I mean…" Hermione started but Harry cut her off.

"Yes, Hermione, I'm sure."

Hermione sighed. "Ok, let's do this."

Harry gave a shy friendly smile. "You're the best 'Mione."

As soon as the two left the anti-apparation wards of Hogwarts they apparated to the Dursley's house. The two were in luck, for although it was the middle of the afternoon, the Dursleys weren't at home. They made their way into the house and Harry headed straight for the cupboard under the stairs. He opened the door, but Hermione stopped him before he could enter the small space.

"Are you sure?" she asked softly.

Harry nodded, his faded green eyes focused intently on Hermione. "I don't have anything to lose, 'Mione," he said honestly.

"But everything to gain," she murmured finishing the saying.

Harry smiled sadly. "You're going to have to stay out here, Hermione."

She nodded her understanding. "Hopefully this will work," she whispered, more to herself than to Harry. But, Harry heard her none the less and gave a harsh laugh.

"Whether or not this works, we'll never know."

Those were the last words Hermione heard Harry say before the cupboard door closed. Sighing she sat with her back against the wall, staring at the cupboard door. With another sigh she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Silently she began to pray that everything would work out, for once.

Once the door shut Harry was thrust into darkness. He didn't bother with a light for he knew the cupboard well. He sat on the floor in the confined space, he placed the book he still carried on his lap and then placed his hands palm down on the floor. He began the spell, an ancient one like the one that had been used against him. But instead of sapping magic and energy, this spell called up the raw untapped magic of the earth and gave it to the caster. Harry had been using the spell to keep himself alive, although it had been losing effect lately, but now he was using the spell for an entirely different reason. Now, he was going to use the raw magic of the earth to send himself back to the past, to where it had all began for him.

He could feel the raw energy from the earth seep into his frail body, soothing the constant burning he had felt since being cursed. But he quickly began to shape the magic flowing in him and around him, telling the magic what he wanted. Happily, pleased to be of assistance, the magic did as it was asked. The raw energy came faster once it had a purpose. The small cupboard was filled with the energy, sparkling lights of blue, white, and green. He felt the magic seethe and a sickening sense of vertigo took hold, forcing him to close his eyes.

When he opened his eyes the cupboard had changed. There was a soft yellow glow from a small lamp, casting the space in shadows. An old rickety bookshelf sat on the wall opposite the door and held Dudley's old clothing and some broken toys. The small cot-like bed sat towards the back of the stairs, furthest away from the door and in front of Harry. Sitting with wide bright green eyes and a bruised cheek was his ten-year-old self.

The two sat there staring at each other in silence, not so much as a gasp escaped either's lips. The older Harry, who was expecting the appearance of his younger self, was still surprised. Seeing yourself tended to do that. But the main reason for his surprise was he had forgotten what he had looked like at the age of ten. Harry gave a small sigh. Now that he was here with his past-self blinking large green eyes at him, he didn't know what to say. Really, how do you tell your younger-self about a future that was so bleak?

"Are you me?" whispered ten-year-old Harry.

Seventeen-year-old Harry nodded. "Yes," he said just as quietly. He wasn't surprised by the other's remark. He knew that he had always handled strange things fairly serenely.

"Are you dead?" asked younger Harry

It was only then that Harry realized he was transparent, wispy looking, like Nearly Headless Nick. But he could still feel his body and he could feel the hard-wood flooring under him, plus, he didn't feel dead. In fact he could still feel the curse burning through his body, only it felt fainter. Which would stand to reason since he was seven years in the past, the curse was working over a long distance of time. "No, I'm not dead, at least, not yet. I'm not sure why I look like this," he said holding a ghostly hand in front of his face. "If 'Mione was here, I'm sure she'd be able to tell us."

"'Mione?"

Harry smiled gently at the thought of his friend. "Her full name is Hermione, she's a friend of mine…will be yours…ours," he faltered

"You're from the future?"

Harry nodded. "As crazy as it sounds, yes."

Younger-Harry blinked rapidly. "And what about this scenario do you find normal?" He shook his head, "Never mind. Don't answer that. What…why are you here?"

"I'm here to change things," started Harry, "Well; actually, I'm here to help you change things."

"Me? Change…Change what? I'm just…" blathered younger-Harry, but he was stopped by a raised hand.

Harry sighed lowering his hand. "There's so much that you haven't been told…We've been lied to so many times…Manipulated…I don't even know where to start."

Younger-Harry shifted on the bed getting more comfortable. "The beginning is always a good place," he whispered.


	2. The Letter

_Lil' Sphinx: I added a small scene of what's happening in the future timeline._

Chapter One

_"For now I'm standing here, I'm awaiting this grand transition,_

_The future is but the past forgotten, on the road to Madness…"_

_"Road to Madness" –Queensryche_

"Well, first off," Harry started, "Our parents didn't die in a car crash."

Younger-Harry gasped, "It was a lie?"

Harry nodded and gave a twisted smile. "And that's just the first. There are so many more and they just keep multiplying," he gave a snort and shook his head. "Anyway our parents were murdered by a dark wizard named Voldemort."

"Murdered? Wait, Wizard?" asked younger Harry.

"Yes," Harry sighed. "I suppose this is where things get complicated. You see, there's a whole world of magic that exists all around us, it's just simply hidden from view, unless you know where to look of course. But it is real; witches, wizards, hags, goblins, imps, black dogs, dragons, you name it, they're all real. They exist."

Younger-Harry nodded, "Okay, but why did this dark wizard guy kill our parents?"

"Our parents were a witch and a wizard and they had defied him on numerous accounts. But the real reason, which I didn't find out about until I was fifteen, was because he wanted me…you…us dead. The scar on our forehead is from a powerful curse that should have killed us."

"But…why try to kill us? We couldn't have been very old at the time and not much of a threat," said younger-Harry. "Wait, if our parents were a witch and a wizard wouldn't that make us one?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Your future self is sitting in front of you and you're questioning whether or not you're a wizard? Honesty, how do you think I got here? Not to mention that time you grew your hair back after Aunt Petunia sheered you nearly bald, or that time she tried to put you in that horrible sweater and it kept shrinking until it couldn't fit a doll. Or that time you ended up on the roof of the school kitchens, or when you set a…wait a minute I don't think that's happened yet."

Younger-Harry gave a sheepish laugh. "Yeah, I guess it was a pretty stupid question. And if you're referring to when I set a Boa Constrictor on Dudley and Piers at the Zoo on Dudley's birthday that happened awhile ago."

"So, that's already happened, meaning the letter should be coming soon," Harry muttered more to himself than to younger-Harry.

"Letter?"

Harry gave another sigh and ran a hand through his wild hair. "Let me finish telling you about Voldemort, then we can talk about other things, 'kay?"

Younger-Harry nodded eagerly. "Kay," he agreed.

"There's a prophecy that says; _'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…Born as to those who have thrice defied him, Born as the seventh month dies…And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, But he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…'_ That's our prophecy and it's only ours because Voldemort tried to kill us. He marked us as his equal," Harry said brushing his fingertips over the lightning bolt scar.

Younger-Harry sat blinking rapidly. Every now and then he opened his mouth as if to say something but closed it as though he really wasn't sure what to say. But the look in his eyes clearly said that there had to be some kind of mistake.

"I know it's a lot to take in. But it's something that you have to know and deal with and the earlier you hear it and understand the better off you'll be," said Harry. "And don't say anything about this being a mistake or how it couldn't possibly be you or anything else along those lines, because it is you and nothings going to change that. I've spent a lot of time saying that it had to be some kinda mistake, that they had to have confused me with someone else, that it couldn't possibly be me, but if I could have dealt with it, accepted that it was me then I wouldn't have had so many problems. Don't make the same mistakes I did by convincing yourself that it's not you."

Younger-Harry nodded. "Okay. Okay, I can handle this," he whispered. "Now, let me see if I have this right. A dark wizard named Voldemort, who was really out to kill us, all because of a prophecy, killed our parents and in trying to kill us set the prophecy into motion that wouldn't have been if he hadn't tried to kill us. Have I got it right?"

"Yup, that's about it in a nutshell."

Younger-Harry frowned. "But there's something I don't get. If he knew about the prophecy then why try to kill us himself, why not send someone else to do it? That way, he couldn't have marked us as an equal and brought about his own downfall."

"Voldemort hadn't heard the entire prophecy; he had only heard the first part about the one to vanquish him would be born at the end of July to people who had defied him. He didn't know that by coming after us would mark us as equal. And I don't know why he came after us himself, maybe he just liked killing, or it was personal or maybe he just wanted to make sure it was done right." Harry gave a one shoulder shrug.

Younger-Harry looked away his bright green eyes narrowed in concentration. "You said you came back to change things," he whispered.

Harry nodded although his past self wasn't looking at him and therefore couldn't see it.

"Were…were things really that bad that you would sacrifice everything, risk all that you know just to see if you could change things?" asked younger-Harry.

"Yes," Harry said without the slightest bit of hesitation. "The future I come from is already lost, there's nothing there to protect, nothing to fight for." In saying those words Harry finally realized why Voldemort had gained the upper hand. It wasn't the curse that enabled him to do so; it was because Harry had lost his will to fight. His determination came from his need to protect the people close to him, but without those people to protect he didn't have a reason to fight.

"There are quite a few things I want to change, but I also want you to have a life. It's safe to say we didn't have much of one in my time. Every time we found a little bit of happiness it was taken away, people we thought would always be by our side weren't, and every time we thought we had finally gained some control over our life we realized we were still nothing more than a pawn left in the dark." Harry gave a short bitter laugh.

"But it's going to be different this time," younger-Harry said offering Harry a shy smile. "We're going to make sure that it's different."

"Right. And like I said, I want you to experience life. I don't want you to know everything that's going to happen, so I'm only going to tell you about the things that need to be changed and only when the event is about to occur."

"I understand. I can't say that I don't want to know, because I do. I want to know everything, but I also don't want to know." Younger-Harry shrugged and gave another sheepish smile. "I'm glad you won't be telling me everything, 'cause life is about the unexpected."

"It's late, you should be going to bed," said Harry.

"What about the letter?"

"We'll talk about it later, for now go to sleep," Harry replied.

"Will you be here when I wake up?" asked younger-Harry as he crawled under the covers.

"Yes, I plan on sticking around for a while."

"We'll have to think of a name for you," said younger-Harry.

Harry frowned. "Why?"

Younger-Harry pushed himself up so that he was able to see his older self. "I know you're me or I'm you, however you wanna look at it. But I feel kinda stupid referring to you as Harry; it's like talking to myself, which I guess I am, but not really…"

Harry raised a hand stopping younger-Harry's rambling. "You're right, we are the same person, but we're also not. And it would get confusing, so you're Harry since this is your timeline and you can call me…Laith."

"Laith?"

"I've always liked that name. Now, go to sleep."

"Kay, 'night Laith," said Harry as he snuggled beneath the covers.

"'Night Harry."

* * *

In the world that Laith left behind Hermione sat outside that very cupboard. For a brief moment the world around her seemed to flicker out of existence. She smiled for she knew that Harry had accomplished what he set out to do, he made it to the past. She disapparated from the Dursley's house and back to Hogwarts where she slipped silently into the castle not wanting to be seen. Using the shortcuts that she had learned from her years at Hogwarts she made it to the Gryffindor tower without being seen. She climbed the spiral steps to her room and collapsed on to the bed. She smiled in the dark and let sleep take her for she knew that Harry would make things better.

Her breathing slowed and then stopped as time stood still. And it wasn't just Hermione who was frozen within time, but everyone. All around things simply stopped moving, stop being. The moving portraits for once appeared like any other portrait, just paint on canvas. Even the moving staircases were frozen in place, some even looked as though some crazed architect came along and built stairways to nowhere. Madam Pomfrey who had just realized that Harry was gone from the hospital was frozen in mid stride with one hand on the door leading into the hallway. Professor Snape loomed over a bubbling cauldron looking for the entire world like a wax figurine of a mad scientist. And in the Headmaster's office all the moving whirling and steaming objects stopped and smoke hung suspended in air and in the corner of the office Fawkes the phoenix was frozen in fire. The Headmaster himself was turned towards the window with a look of disbelief in his pale blue eyes as though he knew what had happened and what was going to happen before time reached out its hand and stopped everything.

Time was waiting. It could neither move forward nor backward, so it simply waited until it could do one or the other.

* * *

Harry woke up to Aunt Petunia banging on the cupboard door shrieking at him to get up. It wasn't the most pleasant of wake-up calls and to be honest he could have done without it.

"God, I had forgotten how horrible that woman sounds first thing in the morning."

Harry sat up quickly, a little too quickly and ended up bashing his head on the underside of the stairs. But the stinging pain didn't stop him from searching the interior of the cupboard for the owner of the voice. His eyes landed on the transparent form of his future self.

"You're really here. It wasn't a dream," whispered Harry.

"A dream? 'Fraid not," Laith said shifting to sit in a more comfortable position.

"So, so it was all true about Mum and Dad being a witch and a wizard and that Voldemort character and me being a wizard? And…and all of it…it was true?"

"Yup," said Laith, "It was all true." He stood up, slightly hunched over and walked out of the cupboard going straight through the door without opening it. He poked his head back in and smiled at the shocked look on Harry's face. "You might wanna get out here before that woman comes back to scream at you."

Harry scrambled from bed and quickly dressed in a pair of Dudley's old jeans that were about four sizes too big and held up with a bit of rope and a pale gray t-shirt, which had also been Dudley's. He followed Laith from the cupboard, although he opened the door instead of walking through it. There was a horrible smell coming from the kitchen. Upon entering the kitchen he traced the smell to a huge pot of what appeared to be soaking rags swimming in gray water in the kitchen sink.

"Don't ask you don't wanna know," said Laith.

Harry turned at the sound of Laith's voice and found him sitting on the countertop holding a small black book and swinging his legs back and forth. Harry found it strange that although Laith was transparent he was still in color, not white like how he would imagine a ghost to be. He could see that Laith's shoulder-length unruly hair was black, that his eyes were green, although not as near as bright as his own, and that Laith was wearing a pair of dark blue jeans with a dark green sweater. Laith looked just like anyone else, only see-through.

"Well don't just stand there boy, bring me my coffee," Vernon Dursley said as he entered the kitchen. He made a face at the smell but said nothing. He sat at the table and opened the newspaper, which did nothing to hide his massive bulk. Dudley followed in his father's wake and waddled over to the table taking up nearly one whole side of it. He banged his Smelting stick, which he had taken to carrying everywhere, on to the table and yelled for breakfast.

Harry quickly did as he was told and went to fix Uncle Vernon a cup of coffee. He kept casting glances at Laith as he went about fixing breakfast and serving the Dursleys.

"Relax, they can't see me or hear me. I tested it this morning to make sure. I'm kinda under the impression that only you can see me."

Harry made sure his back was towards the Dursleys and he kept his voice pitched low so that only Laith would be able to hear. "Why do you think that?"

"Well, it could be that only someone with strong magical ability would be able to see me, which would stand to reason why the Dursleys wouldn't be able to. They don't have a magical bone in their bodies. But I'm thinking you're the only one who can see me because technically I don't exist in this time. I cannot exist in this time, because I'm not the same person I used to be. I cannot be that person anymore. So, it would stand to reason that the only person who can see me would be me. Also, I didn't time travel, as cliché as that sounds, in the normal means. See most wizards' use what is called a Time Turner to travel through time and usually only a couple hours back. But Time Turners are strictly monitored by the Ministry and the use of them to go back into the past to change an event is forbidden."

Laith shrugged. "Not that it really matters; I didn't use a Time Turner. I used an ancient spell that used the raw untapped power of the earth and willed it to do what I wanted. I basically forced myself back into the past. The spell wasn't made to be used that way and in my typical fashion I didn't do all the research before diving right in. So, I don't know…I don't know why I'm transparent or why you can see me and the Dursleys cannot." Laith gave another shrug. "I have no clue. And I have no way of finding out the answers until…until you start Hogwarts."

The click of the mail slot and the sound of letters falling to the floor kept Harry from asking what Hogwarts was.

"Dudley, get the mail," said Uncle Vernon from behind the newspaper as he reached for his cup of coffee.

"Make Harry get it," whined Dudley.

Harry was about to retort but was stopped by Laith.

"Trust me, you'll want to get this," Laith said as he hopped down from the counter and left the kitchen.

Harry followed without a word to the Dursleys and went to get the mail. There was a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister Marge, who was on vacation on the Isle of Wight. There was a brown envelope that looked like a bill and a letter for Harry. Harry blinked at the letter, he never got mail but it was clearly addressed to him. He turned the thick yellowish envelope over and on the back was a wax seal. The seal was purple with a coat of arms; a lion, a badger, an eagle and a snake surrounding a large letter _H_.

"This is the letter you were talking about," said Harry in a tone of voice that implied that he was asking not stating a fact.

"Yes, that's your Hogwarts letter. Uncle Vernon takes it away from you when you go back into the kitchen. It took me weeks to find out what was in the letter."

Harry gave a mischievous smile and withdrew the letter from the stack. "Well, let's find out what happens if he doesn't," he replied as he slipped the letter into his back pocket and made sure it was covered by his baggy shirt.

"Hurry up, boy!" yelled Uncle Vernon from the kitchen.

Harry turned and moved back towards the kitchen.

"Wait!" cried Laith.

Harry turned around with a small frown. "You said you came back to changes things."

"Yes, I did. But I'm here to change certain events not everything. This letter may seem insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but by not letting Uncle Vernon take it, it could change things so drastically that we won't be able to change the things that need to be changed because I won't know when they happen," stressed Laith.

"Who's to say that we haven't already changed things drastically?" questioned Harry as he turned and entered the kitchen.

Laith stood in the hallway blinking at the swinging kitchen door. His past-self was right; they could have already changed things. Didn't he change things just by being in the past? Or telling his past-self things that would have taken years for him to learn on his own; didn't that change things? Laith sighed and racked a hand through his hair in frustration. What had seemed like an easy thing to do was starting to get complicated.

Harry said nothing throughout the rest of breakfast not wanting to draw attention to himself. After breakfast he cleaned up and left the house as quickly as he could. He wandered down the street making a zigzagging path to the park looking over his shoulder from time to time to make sure that Dudley hadn't followed him. Once he was at the park he withdrew the letter from his pocket and sat on one of the swings. Laith, who had been silent on the walk, took the other swing. He was still holding the black book and had it resting on his legs as he slowly rocked the swing back and forth.

Harry started at the dark green ink that spelled his name before finally opening the letter. He pulled out a couple pieces of paper that were the same thick yellowish parchment as the envelope. Unfolding them he saw the same dark green ink and began to read.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on Sept. 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

_Deputy Headmistress_

The second sheet of parchment held a list of school supplies that was needed for the coming school year. He read over the list quickly and then returned to the acceptance letter. Reading the letter made everything his future-self had told him seem…real. It wasn't a brief lapse of sanity or a made-up story to fool him, it was real.

He sighed softly before refolding the letter and placing it back into the envelope. Holding the letter and the swing's chains in his hands he pushed off the ground setting the swing into motion. "Are you mad at me?" he asked softly.

Laith sighed and shook his head. "No. And you're probably right; we could have already changed things. I just wonder what's going to happen now."

"What happened last time?" asked Harry, letting the swing's momentum slow down.

"Well…last time I walked into the kitchen and Dudley pointed out that I had something, Uncle Vernon jerked it out of my hands. Then me and Dudley were kicked out of the kitchen while Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon whispered about the letter. After that I was moved from the cupboard to Dudley's second bedroom. More letters came but Uncle Vernon was always there to take them. After about four days Uncle Vernon took us on a trip, but no matter where we went the letters always showed up. We finally ended up in a lighthouse out in the middle of nowhere and that's where Hagrid came and got me and I was able to read the letter for the first time. That's where I found out that Mum and Dad didn't die in a car accident and that I was a wizard and famous to boot."

"We're…fam…famous?" Harry stuttered. "For…for what?"

"For being the Boy-Who-Lived," Laith said bitterly. "We're the only ones to have survived the killing curse. Also, Voldemort disappeared afterwards."

"Famous," Harry whispered looking down at the pebbles beneath the slowly swaying swing. "I…I don't want to be famous."

"I know. That's something that has never sat well with us," Laith replied softly. "But there's nothing to be done about it, you're just going to have to learn to ignore it. That's what I did."

"So there's nothing," murmured Harry. "Wait! You said this Hagrid guy comes to get us right?"

"Well, he did last time and although we changed things by taking the letter I'm still sure that Dumbledore would send Hagrid to collect us and take us to Diagon Alley."

"Then couldn't we tell Hagrid that we don't want anyone to know who we are, that we wanna be someone else, you know, like an alias. And only the professors at Hogwarts would know who we really are but all the students would just see us as another student, nobody special."

"You could ask, but I don't know if they'd go for it."

"Well," Harry said hopping off the swing. "It can't hurt to ask."

Laith stood up and carefully slipped the black book into his back pocket. "It won't hurt to ask, but don't get your hopes up."

"Speaking of asking," started Harry. "I've been meaning to ask you about that book you carry around all the time. What's in it?"

Laith looked away from his past-self. Those wide innocent curious green eyes of Harry's made Laith want to tell the younger boy everything. Hermione had always told him that his eyes were his most lethal weapon. He had never believed her. He had in fact always rolled his eyes at the notion of it and shrugged it off as a "female thing". But now, face to face with them he finally knew what she meant. And, she had been right. Laith made a mental note to never ever tell his younger-self how lethal his eyes were. That was one thing that didn't need to be exploited.

"It's a journal that I couldn't seem to leave behind," answered Laith. He gave a soft mocking laugh. "I could leave behind everything but a book, how pathetic is that?"

Harry opened his mouth to say something to comfort his future-self, but was stopped by a sharp "don't".

"Don't say anything. I don't wanna talk about this anymore," Laith said as he walked from the park. "Let's go back it's getting late."

Harry said nothing on the way back to the Dursley's he was thinking of all the things that had happened. Harry was also worried about Laith; he had looked so sad when talking about the journal that Harry wanted to help him but couldn't think of any way to do it. He thought about it the rest of the day and into the night but could think of nothing.

There were no letters the next day nor the day after or the day after that. Laith had become silent and had taken to sitting in the backyard reading the journal. Harry had taken to plotting over everything that had happened and the few things Laith had told him of what had happened the first time. The first time Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had taken the letter and had kept him from getting any of the other letters. But this time he had gotten the letter and no other letters came so it would stand to reason that the school knew he had received and read the letter. The first time the school had sent Hagrid to collect him because they knew that he hadn't received the letters, but would Hagrid be sent this time?

Harry sighed. He wanted more answers, but Laith didn't seem to want to talk and there was no one else to ask. Wait…that wasn't true, there was one other person in the house that Harry could ask. Aunt Petunia. She was his mum's sister; she had to know some things about Hogwarts or at least about witches and wizards. He just wanted some answers.

The next day after Uncle Vernon went to work and Dudley left the house to go bully kids out of their money with his friends, Harry decided to talk to Aunt Petunia. He entered the kitchen where Aunt Petunia was drinking tea at the kitchen table and spotted Laith sitting in the greenhouse with his back towards the dinning room/kitchen. The greenhouse doors were open so that the two rooms flowed seamlessly together.

"Aunt Petunia," Harry said, "I think we need to talk."

Laith was out of the chair he had been sitting in and across the dinning room in a matter of seconds. "What are you doing?"

Harry ignored him and waited for Aunt Petunia's attention.

Aunt Petunia looked over her shoulder with a frown. "What could you possibly need to talk about? I'm not in the mood for any of your stupid questions," she said harshly turning back to her tea.

Harry pulled out the Hogwarts letter and sat it down next to Aunt Petunia's tea cup. He took the seat next to Aunt Petunia's and said again, "I think we need to talk."

* * *

_Lil' Sphinx: First off, thanks to everyone who reviewed, I so love reviews. Second, I did this chapter at like 3 in the morning so_ _hopefully everythings okay. Thirdly, hopefully not to many people will get all pissy at me for changing Harry's name, but there was just too many Harrys floating around and I was starting to get confused._

_Kenaki Storm - You're so sweet, thank you._

_Miz - As you can see future-Harry isn't reliving the past, he's just helping his past-self to make a whole bunch of new mistakes. And as for Hermione, it'll be explained later._

_Geminidragon - Older Harry will be sticking around for awhile, but for how long? Well, we'll just have to wait and see._


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